Good Ogre (4 page)

“We're all like heroes and junk,” Dirk said. “I bet someone's carving a statue of me right now.”

“In your dreams,” Sarah replied. “So what do you guys think?”

“Being in the Magrus was awesome,” Dirk said. “But if comics have taught me anything, it's that heroes just don't get up and go where they want.”

“Life isn't a comic book,” Max replied. “If it was, Ricky wouldn't still be bullying me—not after everything we've been through.” Max had hoped that Ricky had changed after their battle in the Tower. And for a while it seemed as if he had—but once they were home he returned to his old ways.

“Maybe,” Dirk answered. “But then he'd just find somebody else.”

“So what about this Shadric Portal thing?” Sarah asked. “Do you think we should talk to Dwight about it?”

“Yeah, at the very least,” Max answered. Dwight was the resident expert on all things otherworldly.

Sarah gathered her lunch tray as the class bell began to ring. “This is the second invitation you've gotten today, Max,” she said. “The wrestling pit, and now the Magrus. Maybe you should remember what happens when you go somewhere without thinking it through.”

“Not everything's a trap,” Dirk answered. “I, for one, like surprises.”

Sarah punched him in the shoulder. “Surprise,” she said with a grin. “Happy now?”

Dirk frowned, rubbing his shoulder. “No.”

But Max's thoughts remained on Dwight. He was anxious for school to end so he could head to the Dragon's Den and find out more about the so-called Shadric Portal. Then he realized that for the first time in a long time, he actually felt hopeful. He wondered if that was a good sign or not.

On portal potties

VISITORS TO THE MAGRUS SHOULD
be aware of the various customs and options available when needing to use bathroom facilities. For example, while learning a local dialect can be fun, never ask an ogre where the bathroom is in their native tongue (it's only slightly different from a marriage proposal, and getting the two mixed up can lead to unwanted consequences). The best option is to find one of the Portal Potties, spread throughout the
kingdom and voted “Invention of the Year” in 214. Unlike the porta-potties found in the Techrus, Portal Potties are imbued with magic so that their contents are whisked away to another realm without fuss or bother. Exactly where said contents are transported to is not known (some suggest Idaho).

CHAPTER THREE

THE DRAGON'S DEN

E
VERY SMALL TOWN NEEDS A
shop like the Dragon's Den. Filled with comic books, games, paintable miniatures, dice, and used sci-fi and fantasy paperbacks, it was a refuge for those who didn't skateboard or play sports or who just thought the ordinary world could do with some spicing up. It was also holy ground for the not-so-popular kids—a sanctuary against jocks, bullies, the mean-spirited, and those with more brawn than brain. Nobody judged you at the Dragon's Den.

The building that housed the Dragon's Den was part of “historic” downtown, which Max had never understood because there wasn't a newer downtown to really compare it to. It was made of red brick, with white columns out front and a metal overhang that served to keep
the sidewalk dry when it rained. The shop was part of a string of old buildings that ran along Main Street, nestled between the Hot Buns bakery and the Madison Pharmacy (which was a good next stop if loading up on hot buns). The Dragon's Den had been remodeled recently, given a fresh coat of paint as well as a new door that actually acted as if it wanted to be opened. Pristine panes of glass had replaced the previous ones (more than one of which had had duct tape covering long cracks), and the faded sign had been updated with one that lit up. The place actually looked respectable now—the kind of shop a mom might drop her kids off at without worrying about roving bands of hooligans or insect infestations.

Max pushed his way past the front door with Dirk and Sarah in tow. He had a sudden flashback to the rainy afternoon when the three of them had brought the
Codex
in for the very first time.

“I'm having déjà vu,” Sarah said as they entered the shop, thinking similar thoughts to Max's.

Dirk smiled. “Yeah, that was awesome.”

Sarah shook her head. “What
don't
you think is awesome?”

“Homework.”

Max ignored his friends and walked to the counter, where Dwight was sitting on his stool and reading a magazine. He'd gone back to wearing his beard nicely trimmed (black like his hair) and was dressed in a white button-up shirt and red suspenders.

“Dude, you look like an elf!” Dirk exclaimed. Dwight glowered and put the magazine down.

“Whatever you want, just turn around,” Dwight said, motioning toward the door. “I see the three of you together and I know there's trouble.” Dwight was mostly looking at Sarah when he spoke—she might have been friends with Dirk and Max, but she definitely wasn't the type of person who showed up at the Dragon's Den looking for new twenty-sided die.

“Pleasant as ever,” Sarah replied sarcastically.

“Hey, Dwight,” Max said as they reached the counter.

“Hello there, Mr. Spencer,” Dwight replied. “Or should I say Mr. Sporazo?” Max still wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea that he was Maximilian Sporazo's son, which was probably the reason Dwight brought it up. “So if I can't persuade you to leave, just how can I help you?”

“We had a very interesting encounter at school,” Sarah replied.

Dwight raised an eyebrow.

“We met a kid named Wayne,” Dirk jumped in, “and he's from the Magrus.”

“Really . . . and how do you know that?”

“That's what he told us,” Max replied. He went on to recount the events of the day.

Dwight shook his head as he took it all in. “I assumed someone might approach you at some point,” he said. “We defeated Rezormoor Dreadbringer after all. That's going to leave an impression. Plus, the real danger is still out there.”

“The Maelshadow,” Dirk said, turning to Max. “Weird to think that there's this ultrapowerful dark lord still after you.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me.”

“Maybe we were naive to think that once we made it home, everything would be fine,” Sarah said. She had always been the logical one, and the idea of magic and monsters wasn't easy for her to wrap her brain around. But she wasn't afraid to follow the facts, no matter where they led. And if that meant that otherworldly monsters
were hunting them, she'd be the first to admit it.

“He mentioned you, too,” Max said to Dwight. “He said we should ask you about the Shadric Portal.”

Dwight blinked several times before responding. “He said what? The Shadric Portal? Are you sure?”

Dirk tapped the side of his head. “Yep. I stored the name away as possible booty.”

Dwight slid off his stool and walked toward his back room. “Stay there. I need to find something.”

Just then the bell jingled and a small group entered the Dragon's Den. Max recognized Melvin Jenkins at once, followed by Megan and Sydney, two sisters who were part of Melvin's LARPing club. Megan was in Max's grade, big-boned with dark hair and glasses. She was also one of the few people who could compete with Sarah for school valedictorian. Sydney was a year younger and a grade below, with blond hair framing a perpetual smile.

“Hi, Max!” Sydney exclaimed. She practically pulled her sister across the room until they reached Max and his friends.

“Oh, uh, hi, Sydney,” Max replied with a cough. He pushed his glasses up and looked away awkwardly. Dirk and Sarah shared a glance.

“Are you going to go LARPing with us?” Sydney continued, beaming. “Oh, that would be so much fun! You totally could if you wanted to.”

“It takes a certain amount of commitment,” Melvin added. “It's not really for
casual
gamers.”

“Who you calling a casual gamer?” Dirk shot back.

“He didn't mean it like that,” Megan said, ever the peacemaker. When she played the live campaigns, she was always a priestess healer. “There's just a lot of preparation required, like building weapons and armor.”

Sarah frowned, confused.

“I know you—you're Sarah Jepson,” Melvin said with a bow. He was thin with dishwater-brown hair and a haircut that looked like his mom owned a set of clippers she hadn't quite mastered yet. And while he wasn't as tall or as fast as Dirk, he was head of the chess club, played in band, and would pick dressing up as an elf and shooting plastic arrows over online gaming any day of the week. “You're the girl who wasted the Kraken last year.”

Sarah offered a forced smile—no matter what she did, she'd never get to live that one down. “So you guys dress up and stuff?”

“Totally,” Sydney replied. “It's way super awesome.”

Melvin leaned on the counter and did his best cool-kid impression. “It's hard to describe the rush, especially if you've never felt the thrill of battle before.”

Max slapped his hand over Dirk's mouth before he could answer. They'd all seen their share of real battles. “We mostly play online,” he said.

“What's your character's name?” Sydney asked. “You could friend me and then we could campaign together. I mean, I'd have to get the game and get permission from my parents to go online and learn how to play it and everything, but I totally would.”

“Uh . . . ,” Max said, loosening his shirt from around his neck—suddenly it felt awfully tight.

“Anyway, we really don't have time for idle chitchat,” Melvin said. “We just stopped by on our way to the park. We're going to be fighting a troll war party.”

“Trolls?” Sarah asked.

“Part of the fun of LARPing is dressing up like monsters,” Megan answered. “Today a band of humans and elves will fight a bridge battle against a gang of trolls.”

“Are you sure you don't want to come, Max?”
Sydney asked. “You could even be a troll if you wanted.”

Max could feel everyone's eyes on him. “Thanks, Sydney. Maybe another time.”

“No problem,” she said, her enthusiasm unfazed.

Dwight reappeared with a large leather-bound book in his hand.

“Hey, Dwight,” Melvin called out. “We just stopped by to check on those boots I ordered.”

“Fairy boots?” Dirk asked. “With bells and stuff?”

Melvin frowned. “Elf boots.”

“Haven't seen 'em yet,” Dwight replied, dropping the book on the counter. “Probably be here Monday if you want to try then.”

“Sounds good,” Melvin said, leading the two sisters away. He paused at the door and turned to Sarah. “You have an invitation to play with us anytime, Sarah. I would put you under my personal protection.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” Sarah replied, not sure how to respond to the offer.

Dwight gave them a wave as they left.

“I don't remember you ever waving at us like that,” Dirk said.

Dwight climbed on his stool. “Yeah, well, they
actually spend money once in a while.” He began flipping through the pages and the group leaned in to get a closer look—the book was written in a language they didn't recognize.

“That's not from the Techrus, is it?” Max asked.

Dwight kept turning pages. “Nope. It's the
Dwarven Book of Lore
.”

“Sweet,” Dirk exclaimed. “I mean, probably.”

“Okay, let's see here,” Dwight said, turning a final page and moving down the text with his finger. “There's the Sandals of Stink—that's a cursed item—the serpent's escutcheon—been there and done that—the Seer Stone of Olfaction—you see and
smell
your future—oh, here we go . . . the Shadric Portal. Says here it was constructed by Maximilian Sporazo after he became the regent of the Tower. He used it as a way of slipping out of boring meetings. Later, he discovered that it could also be used to open a doorway between realms by way of the umbraverse.”

“Umbraverse?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah,” Dwight answered, “there's the universe and the umbraverse. The umbraverse is a place where wizards and other fools go because the rules that should apply to
things don't apply there. Obsikar drew on it to send us back in time.”

“Using something like that seems risky,” Sarah continued.

Dwight returned to the book. “Yep. And it goes on to say that Sporazo used Shadric magic to make it work—definitely a mixed bag with that—and decided to wrap it in two protective spells to keep it from falling into the wrong hands.”

“Like a curse?” Dirk asked.

“Kind of. The first spell makes it so that only one of his blood can remove it from the Tower.” Dwight looked up at Max. “How do you suppose this kid ended up with it?”

Max shrugged. “Don't ask me, I never touched any portals.”

“Maybe you did accidentally?” Dirk suggested. “You didn't use any Portal Potties, did you?”

“I don't think so.”

“If Max didn't remove the portal from the Tower, who did?” Sarah asked.

Dwight frowned. “Good question.” He turned his attention back to the book. “The other protective spell is
kind of interesting . . . it says only one who is
mostly good
can handle it.”

“So that means Wayne's a good guy,” Dirk announced.

“Just because you have good intentions doesn't mean things can't go wrong,” Sarah noted.

“Yeah, just take a look at the bard character class,” Dirk agreed. “Sure, they were supposed to be all versed in lore and even have special arcane powers and stuff, but having to sing songs while the rest of the party fights is lame, no matter how you slice it.”

“You said only one who is good could handle it,” Max said, wanting to get the conversation back on track. “Does that mean use it too?”

Dwight glowered. “I don't know. Portals are like doors—they're often much harder to open than to close. My guess is it takes a good deal of magic to get something like the Shadric Portal open.”

“And not just that,” Dirk added, “but from a wizard who was good—otherwise they couldn't even touch it.”

“It does seem like an effective series of locks,” Sarah said.

Max thought it over. “So what does it all mean?”

Dwight closed the book. “It means we need to be very careful.”

“I'm not sure this is a group that knows
how
to be careful,” a familiar voice called out. Puff the fluff dragon entered the room with a yawn. He'd taken a job as “the world's ugliest watchdog” and had moved in with Dwight some months ago. Max was actually glad to see the dwarf and former dragon getting along, since the two races had a long history of enmity between them.

“Hey, Puff!” Sarah exclaimed. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” Puff said. Dwight had hired a dog groomer to weave all of his fluff into dreadlocks, passing him off as a puli. Max had had to look the breed up on the Internet, and he was surprised at how well Puff managed to pull it off.

“Just having the Shadric Portal around you is dangerous,” Puff continued. As a former dragon he was well versed in things of a magical nature. “It's honed to your blood. It's possible the Maelshadow is using it to find you.”

“I think you should tell Wayne to return to the Magrus,” Sarah said. “It's not like we're going to consider his offer to go back.” Max wasn't so sure about that, however. He'd been spending a lot of time thinking about the Magrus lately.

Puff nodded. “You should find this Wayne and convince him to go home—the sooner the better.”

“He mentioned something about football,” Max said. “I bet he's meeting with the coach or practicing with the team or something.”

“Sarah's right,” Dwight said. “Decline his offer and have him return to the Magrus. We all know how your blood gets us into trouble, and I don't like the thought of a Shadric artifact so close.”

“If you do that, we can't go back,” Dirk protested. “I'll never get to see my statue.”

Sarah lifted a brow, very curious about the statue Dirk was imagining.

“There's always the long way back,” Dwight replied. “If there's a need to ever return to the Magrus, we can.”